November 2008

11/26/2008

When in Napa over the weekend, I realized I needed to buy a copy of my book as a gift. If I was in Sonoma, this would have been easy. But here I was in the heart of Big Wine. And I was getting paranoid.
I tried Napa Valley Wine Hardware where I was told they had an extensive selection of wine books. The guy never heard of mine, "But it sounds good," he said.
I called the CIA in Greystone, and struck out there as well. I tried the ultra-sweet independent book store in St. Helena--River House Books. They had a table packed with the recent releases and mine was not there. I was beginning to think conspiracy.
The owner of the book store approached, "Can I help you?" she asked.
I told her I needed to buy a copy of The Battle for Love and WIne or How I Saved the World From Parkerization. She said she was pretty certain she had sold out.
She checked and sure enough all four copies were gone. Why were they not replenished? That's another story. But meanwhile, the kernel of this one.
The sales help, a brown-haired, soft spoken woman of a certain age, dressed in western inspired Napa-style, asked me what the name of my book was. When she heard it, she became delighted as well as indignant. "We need someone to stop this."
I did not expect this reaction. Here I was thinking that all of Napa was in the Parker BIG WINE camp and wanted to hold public Alice Feiring book burnings.
It turns out she and her husband farm on Stag's Leap, they farm cabernet. "They're killing us with the high sugars," she said. "They're killing the vines! They can't keep on producing grapes at that high level of sugar and survive."
She went on to mourn that in order to meet what the winemakers want they have to stress their vines beyond what nature wants them to produce.
I started to think of a grapevine that produces grapes at 26 brix and over as a post- menopausal woman carrying a baby.

When in Napa over the weekend, I realized I needed to buy a copy of my book as a gift. If I was in Sonoma, this would have been easy. But here I was in the heart of Big Wine. And I was getting paranoid.
I tried Napa Valley Wine Hardware where I was told they had an extensive selection of wine books. The guy never heard of mine, "But it sounds good," he said.
I called the CIA in Greystone, and struck out there as well. I tried the ultra-sweet independent book store in St. Helena--River House Books. They had a table packed with the recent releases and mine was not there. I was beginning to think conspiracy.
The owner of the book store approached, "Can I help you?" she asked.
I told her I needed to buy a copy of The Battle for Love and WIne or How I Saved the World From Parkerization. She said she was pretty certain she had sold out.
She checked and sure enough all four copies were gone. Why were they not replenished? That's another story. But meanwhile, the kernel of this one.
The sales help, a brown-haired, soft spoken woman of a certain age, dressed in western inspired Napa-style, asked me what the name of my book was. When she heard it, she became delighted as well as indignant. "We need someone to stop this."
I did not expect this reaction. Here I was thinking that all of Napa was in the Parker BIG WINE camp and wanted to hold public Alice Feiring book burnings.
It turns out she and her husband farm on Stag's Leap, they farm cabernet. "They're killing us with the high sugars," she said. "They're killing the vines! They can't keep on producing grapes at that high level of sugar and survive."
She went on to mourn that in order to meet what the winemakers want they have to stress their vines beyond what nature wants them to produce.
I started to think of a grapevine that produces grapes at 26 brix and over as a post- menopausal woman carrying a baby.

11/20/2008

A friend called me from Texas to read me the December 2008 review of my book.
The reviewer calls me a jolly green jihadist on a mission and his sign off is something like
I'm good at raising hell. My heart is on my sleeve, but isn't that the right place?
Here's the bit that got me.
"There's a nagging gap; raised in a Jewish orthdox household she does not eat meat or shell fish. Which raises a question she never addresses, with this sort of truncated regime, what for her is wine's purpose?"
Why do people think I have to eat meat to love and understand wine? Why is there pity in their eyes--no steak and claret? How can you live? And some take it even further. A few years ago a book editor once screamed at me at a dinner, you don't eat meat and write about wine? Off with your head!
Don't you know people who will eat anything that walks but that is because they have no sense of taste? I do. And what is so great about meat anyway? I stopped because I don't like it, not because I'm on a regime.
Have they ever had grilled mushrooms or truffles on pasta or stinky and lascivious epoisses? Because I don't eat tripe or kidney pie I don't get the sensual delight of food?
Yeah. I'm off on a rant. This is a hot button topic for me.
And, what does my Orthodox background have to do with anything, especially when it comes to my wine knowledge and passion? My background for a wine writer is unusual which is why I included these autobiographical bits in the book. I mean, most of the people I grew up with still consider Carmel extra sweet a fine wine, but why would someone take this as a cue to question my wine motivation or even my knowledge?
Last winter, my agent's British sub agent asked if I would consider editing out the few Yiddish words within the book's pages. Betsy and I had similar reaction to the suggestion...our anti-semite buttons went off, our respective red hairs bristled. The words stayed. Funny thing is that I sold Spanish rights to the book--it will be out in 2010--no one seemed to mind the Yiddish there.

A friend called me from Texas to read me the December 2008 review of my book.
The reviewer calls me a jolly green jihadist on a mission and his sign off is something like
I'm good at raising hell. My heart is on my sleeve, but isn't that the right place?
Here's the bit that got me.
"There's a nagging gap; raised in a Jewish orthdox household she does not eat meat or shell fish. Which raises a question she never addresses, with this sort of truncated regime, what for her is wine's purpose?"
Why do people think I have to eat meat to love and understand wine? Why is there pity in their eyes--no steak and claret? How can you live? And some take it even further. A few years ago a book editor once screamed at me at a dinner, you don't eat meat and write about wine? Off with your head!
Don't you know people who will eat anything that walks but that is because they have no sense of taste? I do. And what is so great about meat anyway? I stopped because I don't like it, not because I'm on a regime.
Have they ever had grilled mushrooms or truffles on pasta or stinky and lascivious epoisses? Because I don't eat tripe or kidney pie I don't get the sensual delight of food?
Yeah. I'm off on a rant. This is a hot button topic for me.
And, what does my Orthodox background have to do with anything, especially when it comes to my wine knowledge and passion? My background for a wine writer is unusual which is why I included these autobiographical bits in the book. I mean, most of the people I grew up with still consider Carmel extra sweet a fine wine, but why would someone take this as a cue to question my wine motivation or even my knowledge?
Last winter, my agent's British sub agent asked if I would consider editing out the few Yiddish words within the book's pages. Betsy and I had similar reaction to the suggestion...our anti-semite buttons went off, our respective red hairs bristled. The words stayed. Funny thing is that I sold Spanish rights to the book--it will be out in 2010--no one seemed to mind the Yiddish there.

11/19/2008

Julie Brosterman is a sharp, edgy, irony-fueled, ex-pat who lives in Los Angeles. We met because I featured her in a story for Time Magazine.
That topic was one that makes me roll my eyes-- women and wine. In researching I came across her web site geared to fellow femmes. And of course, at first I was cynical.
Then I saw her recommendations.
Larmandier-Bernier Champagne? Okay. I was sold. Then there were some thoughtful articles about wine, the kind of place I would steer a woman who was looking for a friendly and useful sisterhood of wine information
Then I called her. I'm a hard sell---and it was only after hearing her attacking comments on those reviled critter labels-- Virginia Slims of the wine world-- I knew I had to not only give her a lot of ink in the story, but also to break bread with her.
Needless to say, we were immediately interchangeable fans.
When she opened up a wine store in a parking lot of all places Wine Valet total, subversive guerilla marketing of smart wine in the Two Rodeo Drive Shopping Mall, she further endeared herself to me.
Recently she revamped her site, there's travel, wine, blog, what to drink and winery article components. And okay, maybe it's not for you--hard core pineau d'aunis loving male reader-- but I just bet it is great for someone you know.

Julie Brosterman is a sharp, edgy, irony-fueled, ex-pat who lives in Los Angeles. We met because I featured her in a story for Time Magazine.
That topic was one that makes me roll my eyes-- women and wine. In researching I came across her web site geared to fellow femmes. And of course, at first I was cynical.
Then I saw her recommendations.
Larmandier-Bernier Champagne? Okay. I was sold. Then there were some thoughtful articles about wine, the kind of place I would steer a woman who was looking for a friendly and useful sisterhood of wine information
Then I called her. I'm a hard sell---and it was only after hearing her attacking comments on those reviled critter labels-- Virginia Slims of the wine world-- I knew I had to not only give her a lot of ink in the story, but also to break bread with her.
Needless to say, we were immediately interchangeable fans.
When she opened up a wine store in a parking lot of all places Wine Valet total, subversive guerilla marketing of smart wine in the Two Rodeo Drive Shopping Mall, she further endeared herself to me.
Recently she revamped her site, there's travel, wine, blog, what to drink and winery article components. And okay, maybe it's not for you--hard core pineau d'aunis loving male reader-- but I just bet it is great for someone you know.

I'm hunting the Leon Trotskys, the Philip Roths, the Chaucers and the Edith Whartons of the wine world. I want them natural and most of all, I want them to speak the truth even if we argue. With this messiah thing going on, I'm trying to swell the ranks of those who crave the differences in each vintage, celebrate nuance and desire wines that make them think, laugh, and feel. Welcome.

And, if you'd like a signed copy of either THE BATTLE FOR WINE AND LOVE OR HOW I SAVED THE WORLD FROM PARKERIZATION or NAKED WINE, feel free to contact me directly.